Paths of grass, green as emeralds and sparkling with dew like diamonds, bordered on each side with shells that shone like mother-o'-pearl. Flowers, flowers everywhere, of every hue and shade. Canterbury bells and sunflowers indeed! What should you say to bells of real silver, glowing and shining? To fair maids blossoming and curtseying in the flower-beds, fair maids so beautiful that the Knight would fain have stopped with them all day? To roses flowering everywhere? To lillies trickling oozy scent into gold bowls laid ready to receive it? To whole bowers of honeysuckle, and whole beds of lavender? To hedges of every flowering shrub imaginable? To lofty trees whose leaves whispered soft invitations to the passers-by to come and sleep beneath their soothing shade? To fountains plashing and showing a thousand different colours? To fruit of gold and silver hanging from the branches of the fruit trees, and to birds of every plumage singing the sweetest songs imaginable?
Truly there never was such a garden!
"There must be a great many gardeners here!" gasped Sir Hunny Bee.
"Oh, no," answered the old man. "The Princess does it all herself, with the help of some Bees (cousins of yours by the way), a few of the Byrdes, and the nymphs Wynde and Worta. Everything looks so beautiful now, because the Princess is in the garden. If we wait in this arbour here, she will pass behind it on her way to the palace. But do not go out until she calls you. For no man is allowed to see her face until she gives him permission. When she speaks to you, tell her your business speedily."
They waited in the arbour; the little old man still held Sir Hunny Bee's silver bell in his hat. Presently soft footsteps were heard approaching, and a gentle voice said:
"Not to-day,"—and the footsteps passed on behind the arbour.
Then the colour faded from the grass and flowers and shells. The fountains ceased to play, and the birds to sing; and Sir Hunny Bee was almost ready to cry with vexation.
"She is gone," he said, "and I have come so far to seek her."
"You must wait till to-morrow now," said the old man.
So Sir Hunny Bee waited till to-morrow, and exactly the same thing happened. The grass shone, and the flowers glowed. The fair maids turned and curtseyed on their stems. The fountains splashed, and the birds sang. The Princess passed behind the arbour and once more said in her gentle voice, "Not to-day," and then all grew dull and dim and silent, and Sir Hunny Bee more impatient.